


Crazy, He Calls Me

by HarmoniaChimera



Series: Kiss The Burns Away (Singsong Fallout Reacts) [3]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Brotherhood of Steel (Fallout), F/F, F/M, Fallout Reactions, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Other, Phone Sex, The Author Regrets Nothing, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 12:41:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18282575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarmoniaChimera/pseuds/HarmoniaChimera
Summary: Anonymous asked: Companions and phone sex 👀 are they good at it? what do they say?





	Crazy, He Calls Me

**Author's Note:**

> [[For starters, I’d like to thank the requester for making my AU-hating arse think up how in all hells would “phone” sex even work in the Wasteland; that’s exactly how I wanted to spend these last few days. Second, this barely counts anyway. Take it or leave it.]]
> 
> [[Also, mild NSFW ahead. Well, you did say “sex” at me. Own it.]]

**Cait:** Sole gave her one of the better-looking Pip-Boys from Vault 88 after they were finished with their business there, and Cait got almost as addicted to it as she had been to Psycho and was now to Sole. Honestly, it was definitely one of the most useful devices she’d ever gotten her hands on, including that one time when she’d found a still-working vibrator in one of the old hotels. Anyways, thinking back to that time and to how now, typically, she didn’t need one… but… Well, it could always be better in some way, right?

So one day, when Sole was busy with running around and  _talking_  to people, Cait told them she’d be in the nearest bar, but she hid in one of the alleys and recorded a holotape which she then slipped into Sole’s gear when they were sleeping.

Sole found it the next day when they were on the road, pulling it out of their coat pocket with honest surprise on her face. Given that they usually stored the holotapes they’d found back at home as soon as they could, it must’ve really been surprising to find one that escaped that scrutiny. Cait watched them out of the corner of her eye as they inserted the tape into their Pip-Boy.

“Oi, love, I was just thinkin’ about you,” Cait’s voice spoke up. Sole threw them a surprised glance, but Cait pretended not to hear or see anything. The tape continued: “And I was thinkin’ how nice your body feels next to me. How good it feels to go down at you to wake you up from a bad dream in the middle of the night. And how good your hands feel when they’re runnin’ all over me body. Mmm…”

That was the end of the tape. Sole didn’t say anything or follow up on it in any way. Except next day it was Cait who found a tape in her gear, and this time it was her heart beating like crazy when she put it in her Pip-Boy. She looked at Sole, but they conveniently pretended not to see anything.

“My dear, the truth is that if you want me, all you need to do is spread your legs and ask nicely. I’m more than happy to fulfill your every desire, whatever it might be. My hands on your body is just the beginning…”

Soon, the idea of recording indecent tapes and hiding them in one another’s gear turned into a sort of a silly game of “whoever gives in first”, which at least more often than not ended with them passionately fucking in their tent at night. Cait couldn’t complain.

 

 

 **Curie:** Back when Curie had been a Ms. Nanny, she’d helped Sole download the e-mail program framework from University Point’s terminals. And for that, once they got back home, she’d received her own terminal because, as Sole said, “she contributed and she deserved it”. Fast-forward to a few months later, to a settlement-wide party to celebrate Sole’s birthday, which, organised by Hancock, very quickly turned into drunken revelry. Sole, once they’d had a few drinks, wouldn’t let Curie out of their sight, putting their arm around her and pulling her along wherever they’d go. Curie didn’t mind much—it was indeed an interesting occasion to observe people’s behavior and listen to their stories when they were intoxicated, even if she only sipped a single drink that didn’t work on her synth body anyway.

A few days later, Sole was busying themself with some spring cleaning when they’d heard a chime of a new e-mail from their terminal. It was from Curie, and the title said, “Experimentation Schedule”. Very benign. Also, misguiding.

“My dear Sole,

I have decided upon the schedule of our upcoming experimentation and herefore sending you a draft just like you asked for. I know of many things that you also like to ask for, so I included them in this draft. The schedule for next week is as follows…

On Monday, we shall engage in chemical testing. I would like to take pH-measure of your bodily fluids, most notably the saliva and vaginal fluid. But as we lack proper analytic tools for such tests, I am forced to resolve to using my tongue. I should hope the testing will be most  _enjoyable_.

On Tuesday, we will perform some stress tests. This is most important for the control of your heart and whatever effects your new lifestyle and habits have on it. I would be very unhappy to skip these tests as it is your heart that brings me the most joy in life. The testing will involve exerting much  _physical_  effort and passive intake of fluids, administered through my new mouth-to-mouth technique.

On Wednesday, there shall be a physical examination. It is most important to do monthy check-ups and control how your body heals after the injuries it so often sustains. The pre-requisite of this exam is that you are fully unclothed as there should be no physical barriers between the doctor and her patient. Also, in order to keep you from losing precious warmth, we shall make sure your circulation is properly  _stimulated_ , allowing you to regulate your temperature more efficiently.

On Thursday, I will show you some washing techniques, to help you keep hygiene at minimal cost when you are traveling. Seeing as proper hygiene is the most important to living a healthy life, I believe this to be one of the most important activity of the week. It will take place in the shower of your home at 5 PM and continue  _throughout_ the night.

On Friday, I will teach you about proper hydration and nutrition with a specially prepared breakfast we will consume upon waking up. Once you are properly nourished, we will put this new lifestyle regime to the test with another  _stress test_.

On Saturday, we shall take a long walk through the wilderness and study what we encounter along the way. Getting acquainted with one’s surroundings and environment is an important step to implementing a healthier lifestyle. We will get acquainted  _very_  well.

On Sunday we shall take the day off from experimentation and enjoy a quiet night together. As play is also quite important in training of one’s problem-solving skills and hand-eye coordination, I will provide several  _devices_  designed to help with the training.

That is everything I have planned for our next week together. I will be impatiently waiting for your approval of this schedule and begin preparations immediately.

Yours forever,

Curie”

Sole didn’t give their approval right away. They needed to go take a cold shower first.

 

 **Danse:** [[Warning: borderline heresy. Sorry not sorry.]]

Surprisingly, Danse holds the black-belt of phone sex. Sole was shocked when he laughed at their drunken descriptions of their biweekly sessions with their spouse when they used to serve. Granted, Danse had a few too much to drink as well, but there was an unpalpable tang of sincerity to the story he told. Specifically, he recalled that in his first squad, back under the command of Paladin Krieg, he and Cutler would occasionally—and by ‘occasionally’ he meant ‘often’—spout sexual things at each other through the comm-links while the rest of the squad was choking with laughter. And when Sole asked what sort of things, Danse, blushing a little and with an intro of “Oh, we were young and stupid, and it was usually Cutler initiating these wildly inappropriate conversations”, gave them a recap of one of their conversations which went something like this:

“Oh, Danse, you mighty, mighty man… Oh, the things I’d let you do to me at night in my quarters. Over.”

“Yes, Cutler? Like what? Over.”

“Like at first, I’d let you put your hands on me… Over.”

“And what would you be wearing, Cutler? Over.”

“I’d have absolutely nothing on. I’d have undressed and washed and gotten all prepared for you, my lovely Danse. Over.”

“Mm, I’m starting to get behind this idea. I’d definitely use those hands for the betterment of mankind. Over.”

“And after my mankind couldn’t take any more betterment, what would you do? Over.”

(There was no way at this point that everyone in the squad wasn’t laughing, even Paladin Krieg.)

“I would continue our… training exercise. Move on to other locations. Over.”

“Oh, what sort of locations? Over.”

“Wherever you’d want me, my beloved Cutler. As long as you spoke up. Over.”

“Oh, Danse… Over.”

“Speak up, Cutler! Over.”

“Oh, Danse, but there are several unoccupied locations here! What do we do? Over.”

“We shall explore them one by one, no matter how unusual. Over.”

“Yes, Danse, keep telling me. Keep ordering me. I want you to be my Paladin tonight. Over.”

(You should’ve seen Krieg’s face at this point. Priceless.)

“Take my uniform off, Cutler. Over.”

“Gladly, my Paladin. Right away. Over.”

“Now bend over. Over.”

“Please, my Paladin, do whatever you want to me. Over.”

“I will, Cutler. You just relax. Over.”

“Yes, put it in me, put it in! I can’t wait!… Over.”

“Oh, Cutler, you’re so delightfully tight… Over.”

“And you, my Paladin Danse, you are…  _semper invicta_. Over.”

“You make me such, brother.  _Ad victoriam_. Over.”

“Yes,  _ad victoriaaam_!”

…Upon getting their breath back, Sole asked why Danse even engaged in those conversations if they were so ‘wildly inappropriate’. Danse had no answer for them.

[[Did I say ‘mild NSFW’?? Can’t seem to recall…]]

 

 

 **Deacon:** Deacon was something else. First time Sole found the note in the dead drop, obviously written in his handwriting, they couldn’t really believe it, especially since it wasn’t addressed to them. But really, who else could it be for? Sole stifled a sting of jealousy as their eyes glided along the lines: “If you were here right now, I would be pushing my dick down your throat. But since you’re not, I can only wallow in my loneliness”. Ah, that bold, bald idiot.

As they scribbled their response on the back of the note and put it back in the dead drop and especially as they closed the container behind them, they felt a rush of something… Like a thrill. Like when having sex in public. Their thoughts sprinted to that time at the park, with… but it was a long time ago. There was no point reliving it. They threw another glance at the container and left.

A few days later, Sole visited Railroad’s HQ, and lo and behold, Deacon was there too. They picked up the pace—it wasn’t often these days that they could see each other, what with his work as a field agent and their own duties and activities. But halfway through the room they saw that Deacon was actually hunched over what looked like a pile of papers, sitting on his mattress, head in hands.

“What’s up with him?” Sole asked no one in particular, but it was Doc Carrington who almost jumped out of his seat to answer.

“He got about twenty replies to that stupid note he left in every dead drop we have… I think he’s crying.”

“Oh, shut up,” they mumbled, but threw him a grin. Sometimes they thought they were the only ones who actually liked Carrington, even for all his flaws. But now they navigated over to Deacon’s mattress and before he even noticed them there, grabbed one of the notes at random and read the reply. “Oh, yes, Deacon, I’d love to gulp you down like a bottle of whiskey!”, it said. It wasn’t Sole’s reply. They looked at the pile of notes beneath their feet and Deacon’s miserable face, trying to stifle laughter.

“You should know my handwriting, honey,” they said. Deacon scoffed and threw some of the notes in the air like the dramatic actress that he was.

“You never handwrote a single thing to me!” he yelped. Sole patted his glistening baldness comfortingly.

“Now, now, it’s okay,” they said. “I didn’t reply to this silly thing anyway.”

Deacon looked up at them, squinted… “Just leave the lying to me, honey,” he said. “You’re lousy at it, I’m sorry to say.”

Sole chuckled. “Okay, fine, have it your way and keep looking for a note you have no idea about. Take a guess based only on how well you think you know me.” Deacon pouted, just a tiny little bit. “Or…” Sole said, leaning to his ear. “You can just pick a few of them out and then come find me, and we can play them out…” They bit the node of his ear playfully and walked off, leaving him slack-jawed and red up to the brow. When they looked around, they could see him frantically sorting through the notes.

 

 

 **Hancock:** Since Sole noticed a ham radio at Hancock’s Old State House, they realized that would be a perfect way to communicate when they weren’t together—‘cause God knows Hancock always found a better way to communicate when they were. However, Sole didn’t account on him interrupting them in the middle of the night in the workshop as they were building new defense turrets for their settlement. And it was going really great until the ham radio crackled and bespoke:

“Hey, sunshine!” And then his voice got lower, huskier, and  _sexier_ : “Hope you’re naked over there ‘cause I sure am.”

Sole grabbed the microphone and said, “Goddammit, Hancock, you know I’m in the workshop. If I was naked here, I’d be up for losing a few body parts, like you.”

“And we wouldn’t want that, would we?” Sole could almost hear him wink over the radio. “But still, how about I keep you… company?”

Sole didn’t reply.

“I mean, after you finish whatever you’re doing, maybe you’ll wanna operate some heavy machinery.”

“For fuck’s sake, Hancock, stop! I’m trying to work here.”

“Yeah, baby…” He breathed. “I love it when you do it with your hands…”

Sole blushed, getting hot all over, but instead of replying, they just focused on the task at ha… Dammit! The task. Period.

“I miss you, Sole…” Hancock’s voice, with its rasp and tone, and slightly distorted by the radio, was reaching Sole on a wholly different level of being. “…And little Han-cock misses you, too.”

“HANCOCK, YOU LITTLE SHIT!”

“Don’t call him names! It’s okay, little one. Daddy will stroke you with love.”

Sole decided to ignore him. Just ignore him. It’s okay. He’s gonna get off that… Dammit! Come off… DAMMIT! He’s gonna be done… D-A-M-M-I-T. Nevermind.

“Sole, darling? Why aren’t you saying anything? Are you masturbating?”

“Why, Hancock, ‘DARLING’, why aren’t you stopping this trainwreck? Are you high?”

“Damn right I am.” And the shameless confidence in his voice honestly turned Sole on more than anything else he’d said so far. But they weren’t going to give in so easily. He wasn’t going to win them over with just the sound of his voice alone.

And as Sole returned to building the turret—realizing, along the way, they’d put more than one part in the wrong place because of being distracted by that irradiated idiot—that irradiated idiot took an audible breath, as if to calm down, and then said, “Alright, sunshine, I’mma go sleep it off. You have a good night and I hope you dream about me kissing every inch of your perfect body and sliding myself into you exactly the way you like. Or you into me, whatever floats your boat, love.” And with another crackle, he was gone. And Sole was left with their thoughts racing and heart  _pounding_.

 

 

 **MacCready:**  Since RJ brought Duncan to the Commonwealth so that they could both have something at least resembling a real family again, as much as this world permitted it, one big problem arose: they couldn’t travel together anymore, not when one of them had to stay behind and take care of Duncan. That, in turn, brought a lot of late nights, staying up worrying about one another, tension, and eventually arguments. Sole knew these originally stemmed from love, but it was still so… So they decided to look for solutions. After two weeks they managed to modify a baby monitor to transmit both ways and link it to Sole’s Pip-Boy. That way they’d have contact with one another, and a way to send a distress call should anything go wrong at home. And then that bit Sole in the ass, too.

One day, early morning, Sole woke up at their camp they’d only set up in the first place because they wanted to make one more stop before returning back home—and also, it had been late when they were setting it up, and even though they were maybe half an hour away from home, they didn’t want to wake the boys just to have to leave the next morning again. So they made camp, went to sleep, and then woke up at, like, fucking dawn to RJ’s voice spewing crap through their Pip-Boy. At first they thought he was making sense, that maybe the house was under attack, but then RJ said, “The places I’d kiss you in… ’Cause I miss you and I need some masturbation material.”

He WHAT? Sole jerked up and began packing up the camp, at the same time teasing RJ on the line, “I wish I could be there, too, honey, tracing kisses down your firm chest…”

RJ moaned softly, “Oh, yes. I’d love to feel you close. Your hand down my pants…”

“Down your what? I’d have undressed you a long time ago. And tied you to the bed. I’d love to have you completely at my mercy.”

The groan he let out made Sole’s lips twist into a satisfied, vengeful smile. No one, and they meant it—NO ONE would be waking them up at dawn.

“Uhh… What about Duncan, though?” he asked, his voice somewhat shaky.

“I’d leave him with Dogmeat, lock the door… Dogmeat would let us know if Duncan was coming. Don’t you worry. I have it all thought out.”

“Mm. Please tell me you wouldn’t just tease me the entire time.”

“Of course not. First thing I’d do would be to push you all the way down my throat, as far as it would go.”

“Holy f…” he cleared his throat like that was going to help. Sole was now walking briskly with a huge grin on their face.

“And then I’d do you exactly the way you like. Except you wouldn’t be cumming until I let you. And there would be nothing you could do, tied up as you’d be. Mm, thinking about that body of yours splayed out on the bed. Just… yummy.”

“Oh, goodness, Sole. Please come home as soon as you can.”

“I will, love. I will.”

And barely a few minutes later, Sole rushed into the house and moved about as quietly as they could as to not wake Duncan up; they found RJ in the bedroom, hiding behind the bed with his head thrown back, dick in hand. And Sole just stood there above him with their hands propped up on their hips until RJ finally opened his eyes and saw them, immediatelly getting all flustered and embarrassed.

“Hey, b-but in my defense, look what you did to me!” he mumbled, the first fully coherent sentence in the full-minute-long babble.

“Yeah?” Sole shoves his hand down their pants. “Well, look what you did to  _me_!”

 

 

 **Nick:** When Sole told him about how they’d used to play with their spouse over the phone, Nick raised his brow and didn’t say anything. The topic never came up again.  
[[Like, let’s be real, he would SO not be up to it. Leave poor Nick alone.]]

 

 

 **Piper:** Sole and Piper never talked about what Sole did with their spouse, how their life was before the war or any of that stuff. It was as if Piper filled in the blanks herself and correct or not, she was happy with it. As if it pained her less to work with those lies than have to listen to Sole’s life about someone else and then see that moment when they reach the end of the story and realize it’s never coming back. The moment when their tearful eyes close over a fake smile as they say, “But I have you now, Red. So it’s all good.” It’s never all good. So she preferred her stories.

But even so, whether it was by some bizarre coincidence or because she really did find out about it  _somehow_ , one day Piper did the exact same thing their spouse used to. One day, a messenger came up to Sole and handed them a sealed letter with their name on it. The shock of getting anything from a random caravan driver who had apparently recognised her easily but whom she’d never met before, and all that in the middle of nowhere in Capital Wasteland—that shock dissipated as they opened the makeshift envelope an found an actual love letter from Piper.

“My Beloved Sole,

I have never done something like this before. But these last few weeks when you’ve been gone have been hard. I can’t pretend you’re just around the corner anymore. I can’t imagine waking up next to you every morning. Last night I awoke from a nightmare which I could barely remember, but it was a dream of you never returning to me again. I’m scared. I know you’re not going to be back anytime soon, but if I were to receive a reply from you, even a short ‘I’m okay’ note, I’d sleep much better.

And I’m sorry for writing this, but I miss you. I can’t help it. I can’t even write a good article anymore, so you better get your shapely ass back here soon! My livelihood is on the line!

Speaking of that shapely ass… Ahh, nevermind. I just want you back. I want you next to me. I want to be able to kiss you and touch you, and be with you, and I swear on the Wall, when you return, I’m not letting you out of bed for AT LEAST a week. You’ll repay me in earnest for every minute I had to spend all alone, pressing my hand to my lips as to not let a sound out as I’d push the other down my… Or up. Depends on the perspective, I guess. And all of that thinking of you.

I need you. Get back soon and stay safe.

With love,  
Piper  
  
PS. If someone opens and reads it before it reaches you, I will be SO pissed.”

Sole raised their gaze from above the letters, hand at their own lips as they held back their tears. The caravaneers threw them a weird look from above the fire they all sat around, but didn’t say anything. Piper literally went to Goodneighbor and talked to Daisy, probably in exchange for some favors, to make sure this reached them. Sole ripped a piece of the paper and scribbled a short note before giving it back to the caravan driver, nearly begging him to take it back. The note said: “I’m fine. I love you, too. I promise I’ll be home soon.”

 

 

 **Preston:**  After the party where Sole literally almost boasted about what phones used to be and what use they made of them with their spouse, Preston was indignant for the rest of the evening. He couldn’t help being jealous. But even so, when they passed out like the adorable idiots they were, Preston was the one to gather them up from the floor and put them to bed. And when he stayed and looked at their sleeping face, so peaceful if not for the quite disturbing muttering, he just somehow wasn’t mad anymore.

“No, don’t touch me…” Sole muttered in their sleep. “Fuck off, whoever you are, there’s a man waiting for me at home…” Preston’s heart fell to his stomach again. But then… “No, his name is My Boyfriend… Now go away.” And Sole turned to the other side and slept soundlessly the rest of the night. When they awoke in the morning with a skull-splitting headache, the first thing they noticed was a glass of water on the nightstand. They gulped the entire thing down, spilling more than some on themselves before they realized there was also a note. It said, “Hey, Li’l Mama, whatcha got on?”

 

 **** **BONUS - Strong:**  [[Please, don’t. Steer clear. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.]]

I just have this vision in my head, like, a beheaded mole rat used as a crayon, the mask of a pre-war white car his canvas, and those red child-like letters spelling: “Strong like your butt”.

**Author's Note:**

> **Original post:[HERE](https://atombombbagel.tumblr.com/post/169108960043/companions-and-phone-sex-are-they-good-at-it)**


End file.
